


Leaves Me Winded and Wanting

by SocialDegenerate



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Barebacking, Desk Sex, Face-Fucking, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, it's like 1180 they don't know what a germ is much less a safe word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25507480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDegenerate/pseuds/SocialDegenerate
Summary: Ferdinand likes Hubert and pain, so it's awfully convenient for the both of them that Hubert likes Ferdinand's hair and causing pain (and, perhaps, he likes Ferdinand too...just a little)When Ferdinand began growing out his hair, Hubert’s first thought was that he looked utterly ridiculous and stupidly vain.His second, unbidden thought was that he wanted to wrap it around his hand and pull until tears came to Ferdinand’s too-bright eyes.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 13
Kudos: 182





	Leaves Me Winded and Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for perfect SSC BDSM etiquette here, you will not find it here. If you're looking for unrealistic smut, you _will_ find it here (they have magic healing spells and no internet access, they don't know what a safe word or aftercare or safe hair pulling is).
> 
> I tossed out about three separate romance ferdibert fics before realising that I mostly just wanted Hubert to pull Ferdinand's hair until he cried while fucking him ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Ferdinand began growing out his hair, Hubert’s first thought was that he looked utterly ridiculous and stupidly vain.

His second, unbidden thought was that he wanted to wrap it around his hand and pull until tears came to Ferdinand’s too-bright eyes.

Of course, he first noticed that Ferdinand had apparently given up on haircuts during a Strike Force strategy meeting, forcing him to spend the rest of the meeting with his cock pushing stiffly against his trousers. Thankfully everyone was used to him sweeping out of rooms without getting caught up in small talk as soon as he was no longer needed, and mere minutes passed between Edelgard calling an end to their meeting and Hubert ending up in his quarters, his forearm pressed against the locked door and his other hand frantically working his cock to mental images of Ferdinand’s eyes watering from Hubert’s hand in his hair and dick down his throat.

The guilt he felt afterwards, more about putting his desires before his duty than the idea of fucking the von Aegir whelp until he cried, didn’t stop the fantasies from becoming more frequent than he would ever have admitted. It only became worse when Ferdinand somehow wormed his way into Hubert’s esteem: Ferdinand corralling him into a quiet corner for tea and coffee while Hubert tuned out the boisterous chatter, trying not to fixate on the idea of dragging Ferdinand across the table by his stupid orange hair and taking him in front of anyone who cared to look.

Their afternoon teas ended, more often than not, with Hubert in the same position as after the meeting that had apparently irrevocably changed something in his brain. If Ferdinand had any idea, he didn’t show it: he remained his annoying, joyful self, sometimes laughing so hard at nothing that the corners of his eyes would water and Hubert’s mouth would go dry.

They were at _war,_ and Ferdinand von Aegir was laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world, and instead of being annoyed Hubert was committing every moment of those glistening eyes to memory.

In the end, it perhaps wasn’t surprising that Ferdinand was the one to break the stalemate they had found themselves in. Hubert was unwilling to actively push his duty even further out of mind, telling himself over and over again that his fantasies were enough of a distraction when they existed only in his mind. Ferdinand, though, had always been one to test boundaries. For someone so well-versed in manners and etiquette, he seemed to take a quiet pleasure in acting with impropriety: whether it was openly challenging Edelgard or refusing to let Hubert fade into the background the way he should have, he refused to follow the unspoken cues that governed their world.

If he’d been less exhausted from several days spent on an espionage-slash-assassination mission for Edelgard that was too sensitive to be delegated to his own network of spies, Hubert may have noticed that something felt off as he opened the door to his quarters. But he’d exhausted his magic too much to feel the disturbances in his warding, and his first thought was that the bright hair splayed across his desk was an illusion from his too-tired mind.

And then Ferdinand stirred where he’d fallen asleep, sitting in Hubert’s chair with his upper body slouched over Hubert’s desk, and those eyes that haunted Hubert’s waking and sleeping hours blinked tiredly at him before widening in recognition.

“Hubert,” Ferdinand said softly, sleepily. “You’re back.”

“And you’re here,” Hubert murmured flatly, steadily ignoring the fact that Ferdinand looked and sounded exactly the way he did when Hubert unthinkingly let his fantasies progress to what might happen _after_ he got off. “Get out.”

“Wait! I need to talk to you,” Ferdinand practically cried out, sitting upright and sweeping tangled sheets of wavy hair out of his face. Feeling a little like he was losing a staring contest with the sun, Hubert turned away and instead focused on taking off his travelling cloak. The bloodstains would be hard to completely wash out, but he’d chosen the dark colour for that very reason.

Acutely aware of the sounds of Ferdinand standing up behind him, Hubert didn’t react when Ferdinand walked up behind him, his breath hitching in hesitation.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hubert said in favour of listening to Ferdinand hem and haw, not sure if the warning was for Ferdinand or himself. Having Ferdinand so close to his bed was blurring the lines between fantasy and reality, particularly to Hubert’s exhausted mind, and there was no way that Ferdinand could or would take what Hubert wanted to do to him.

“Hubert, are you injured? Let me take care of you,” Ferdinand eventually said, ignoring the warning completely. His hands ghosted over Hubert’s shoulders as if wondering whether to take his shirt off to look for hidden wounds, but he didn’t try to stop Hubert from taking a step forward to escape his touch.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Ferdinand tried again, not quite stifling a flinch when Hubert suddenly spun on his heel and held Ferdinand under the glare of his one visible eye.

Taking a step forward, there was a perverse pleasure to be felt when Ferdinand stepped back in turn. “A far more dangerous proposal than you understand, von Aegir.”

Tilting his chin up, Ferdinand squared his shoulders and this time didn’t move when Hubert closed the distance between them, their bodies close enough that Ferdinand was risking getting all manner of unsavoury materials smeared onto his primped clothes. “I don’t fear you, Hubert. You-”

“You should,” Hubert snarled, and he wasn’t sure how conscious of a movement it was when his fingers were suddenly sliding through Ferdinand’s hair.

“You _enchant_ me,” Ferdinand finished, breathless. His eyes were wide and his breathing had picked up, very human reactions that were not unlike those of the unlucky bastards who found themselves spending their last moments in Hubert’s company.

When it came from Ferdinand, though, it felt disgustingly innocent: the opposite of the depravity that Hubert wished to bring down upon him. Feeling like the situation was getting away from him, Hubert decided to put a stop to it in the only way he knew how. Sliding his fingers further through Ferdinand’s hair, he didn’t stop when his hand caught on a messy tangle; rather, he jerked his hand and felt thin strands snap in his fingers, his cock immediately throbbing when Ferdinand hissed at the sudden pain of his neck being jerked to the side and hair being ripped from his head.

“You should,” Hubert said again, letting orange hairs fall from between his gloved fingers. “My world is not whatever one-sided romance tale you’ve undoubtedly cooked up in your head.”

Going to brush past Ferdinand, Hubert was unceremoniously halted when Ferdinand’s big, calloused hands clamped onto his shoulders. If he’d had an ounce of magic left, Ferdinand’s physical advantages wouldn’t have posed a problem; but he was utterly drained, and using any more magic ran an unacceptable risk of leaving him in a coma or dead altogether. He could only do that with the blessing of his Emperor, and the time hadn’t yet come for that.

“I know you think of me as a- a vapid _fop,”_ Ferdinand said, his pupils blown wide and his tongue nervously wetting his lips, “but I harbour no illusions about the kind of man you are.”

“Oh? Well then, Ferdinand von Aegir: what kind of man am I?”

Ferdinand was, to his credit, holding himself together better than Hubert would have expected; a deep, shuddering breath was the only sound in the room, if Hubert ignored the way his pulse was thundering. “The kind who will hurt me.”

Hubert was so hard that it _hurt_ and he needed to get Ferdinand out as soon as possible. “Then you know why you shouldn’t be h-”

_“And I’ll enjoy it,”_ Ferdinand whispered, almost getting lost under Hubert’s dismissal.

“...You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

The hands that were still on his shoulders slid down slightly to rest against his chest, Ferdinand practically pleading with him now. “Please, Hubert, I’m asking for the chance to make you happy.”

With Ferdinand in front of him, begging so sweetly and leaving Hubert so hard, the choice to step away was almost painfully difficult. But Hubert’s hands were very nearly shaking from how drained he was, and there was no way he could trust himself not to go too far and cause Ferdinand permanent damage.

Hubert might have enjoyed it, but Edelgard wouldn’t approve of losing one of her generals in the middle of a war.

“Not tonight,” Hubert said, watching Ferdinand visibly sag.

“Why?”

There was no way that Hubert was going to admit to weakness, not in front of Ferdinand von Aegir and not on his own ground. So instead he let out a dark laugh, stepping aside to leave Ferdinand a clear path out of the room.

“The masochist says to the sadist, ‘hurt me’,” Hubert murmured, ushering Ferdinand to the door and opening it to make him take his leave. “Do you know what the sadist says in reply, von Aegir?”

“No?” Ferdinand said, sounding confused as he found himself standing outside of Hubert’s room.

“Exactly,” Hubert smirked, closing the door in Ferdinand’s face.

* * *

Three days.

Hubert lasted _three days_ before he cracked, which happened to be three days of awkward erections as well as two days of Ferdinand trying his best to get Hubert’s attention and one day of him moping around like someone had stolen his favourite horse.

Ferdinand startled when Hubert slapped a cup of tea on the table in front of him, the ceramic cup and saucer clattering loudly and a little liquid spilling out. Looking up at Hubert, Ferdinand visibly brightened and then covered it with an exaggerated frown, letting out a haughty little huff. “Speaking to me again now, are you?”

“Hm,” Hubert said dismissively, sitting across from Ferdinand with his own cup. “Are you regretting your impudence yet?”

“Wh-” Ferdinand started, and then his eyes widened. “No, Hubert.”

“Oh? Perhaps you have a spine after all.”

Ferdinand shifted in his chair, taking a sip of the tea Hubert had brewed for him and sighing. “Must you be so mean?”

“I thought you said you would enjoy it if I hurt you.”

For a moment, Ferdinand looked genuinely upset. That was a misstep, then: Ferdinand would pull away from anything that mentally cut too deep. Hubert could work with that.

“Well,” Hubert said before Ferdinand could reply. “I suppose you’ve had ample warning if you insist upon _per_ sisting. I may have some free time after my last meeting tonight.”

He didn’t think it relevant to mention that he had intentionally set up his schedule that way. Ferdinand’s visible shudder was enough that Hubert didn’t bother waiting for an answer, picking up his own cup and sweeping away without another word. It was another uncomfortable day of inconvenient erections that could only be ignored through his prior engagements, and he did his best to avoid looking like he was eager to leave. Indeed, when Edelgard and Dorothea retired for ‘ladies’ business’, as they called it, he took his time returning to his quarters.

He prided himself on his steady hands and his unflappable demeanour.

Ferdinand von Aegir would not see otherwise.

This time he was well aware that someone else was inside when he approached his door, despite the fact that it was locked. He’d really have to rework the entire mechanism if _von Aegir_ , of all people, was managing to get inside. But that could wait for another day.

Letting himself in and leaving his boots by the door, Hubert pointedly ignored Ferdinand where he was standing awkwardly to the side of the room, folding his coat over the back of his chair and leaving his gloves neatly on his desk. Shuffling a few things around with no real purpose except to make Ferdinand wait, he eventually turned around, leaned back against the sturdy wood of his desk, and deigned to acknowledge the other man in the room.

“Well?”

Ferdinand practically jumped out of his skin, his chest visibly heaving from his excited breathing. He’d apparently decided to leave most of his usual outfit in his room, standing there in just a shirt and trousers; it was still far too much clothing for Hubert’s liking.

“Well what?” Ferdinand asked, nervous fingers fiddling with the ends of his hair. Hubert’s fingers clenched from the need to replace Ferdinand’s hand with his own, and he pressed them into the desk to avoid giving the game away.

“Undress.”

Ferdinand looked like he was about to argue but it barely lasted a few seconds, his attention instead going to removing his shirt. He hesitated when it came to his trousers, glancing up at Hubert through his hair in a way that seemed unintentionally coquettish, but Hubert merely lifted an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Ferdinand shoved down his trousers and smallclothes. It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable standing there naked while Hubert obviously eyed him like a piece of meat, especially as Hubert was still wearing the majority of his clothes, but the anxious fiddling of his fingers was at odds with his hardening cock. Hubert let his eyes slowly trace from up from Ferdinand’s bare feet to his sturdy riding thighs to the patch of darker red hair between his legs. He lingered there until Ferdinand shifted awkwardly from the attention, and only then kept going up to Ferdinand’s sturdy chest, broad shoulders and lip that was caught between his teeth.

“You’ll do,” he said eventually, Ferdinand’s eyes flicking towards him and then away again. “Come here.”

When Ferdinand was within his reach, Hubert spread his legs slightly and undid the front of his trousers, baring just his cock. The hardness gave away his feigned disinterest and it wasn’t easy to resist touching himself more than he absolutely had to, but he had better places to put his hand.

Making sure he was firmly settled against the desk, Hubert raised both hands and buried them in Ferdinand’s hair, curling his fingers into the thick strands and pulling down with increasing pressure until Ferdinand got the hint and sank to his knees. Hubert looked down at Ferdinand, all that power and worthless nobility kneeling at his feet, and his cock twitched.

But he could remember the genuine hurt on Ferdinand’s face earlier and so he bit down his initial urge to mock Ferdinand about how, for all his precious nobility and his crest, _he_ was the one who had gone to his knees so eagerly for a man like _Hubert_. He had a use for Ferdinand for the night, after all, and he didn’t think his looks _or_ his personality would keep Ferdinand around if Hubert hurt him in ways he didn’t like.

“You look good down there,” he said instead, tightening his grip on Ferdinand’s hair to balance out the semi-compliment. Ferdinand winced, his eyes darting between Hubert’s face and cock like he couldn’t decide which to focus on, and it was with great reluctance that Hubert not-quite-gently unwound one of his hands from Ferdinand’s hair and wrapped it around the base of his dick. “Open your mouth.”

When Ferdinand began raising his hands, Hubert yanked sharply on the handful of hair he still held. Ferdinand’s quiet gasp of pain went straight to his cock, and from what he could see happening between Ferdinand’s thighs, he wasn’t the only one.

“You don’t get to touch me. Keep them behind your back or this is over.” Ferdinand obediently placed them where he was told, looking like a perfect picture of debauchery with his pupils blown and his tongue darting out to wet his parted lips. Pleased with the lack of argument — _for once_ — Hubert used his grip on Ferdinand’s hair to pull him closer, tapping his cock against Ferdinand’s bottom lip and growing warm inside when Ferdinand’s mouth opened further to take him inside.

He started shallow, holding Ferdinand in place more than forcing him back and forth, but the ease with which Ferdinand took to having Hubert’s cock in his mouth painted a fairly clear picture of his sexual history. In fact, he seemed rather comfortable, and Hubert couldn’t have that.

Returning his other hand to Ferdinand’s hair, wrapping it around his fists until he had a sturdy grip and Ferdinand made a muffled noise of discomfort, he pulled Ferdinand’s face towards his crotch and fed his entire cock into Ferdinand’s throat. He immediately gagged and tears sprang into his eyes, and Hubert had to bite back a groan at his fantasies coming to life even as he eased Ferdinand back.

Before Ferdinand could get too comfortable, though, Hubert began to move him back and forth, forcing Ferdinand to take up the bulk of the work. He’d thrust his hips forward occasionally, whenever the feeling of using Ferdinand’s mouth like an object got too good to resist, and the way it would make Ferdinand gag was utterly delicious. He might have even felt a little bad about it, if not for the way that Ferdinand’s own hips jerked forward every time Hubert made him ache and cough.

For all the irritating drivel that Ferdinand spewed on a normal day, he made a perfect picture when his voice was cut off by a cock down his throat.

“You did well,” Hubert said when he finally pulled his cock free, Ferdinand panting for air with his eyes shining from unshed tears. A little too well, perhaps, because it almost seemed a shame not to come across his swollen lips and pale, freckled skin; but Hubert wasn’t going to last and there was more of Ferdinand left to use. “Up and over the desk, but if you ruin anything you’ll be rewriting it.”

“I find it hard to believe you would have left anything important where I could read it, much less ruin it,” Ferdinand said, his usual attitude returning slightly. Hubert might have been annoyed, if not for the fact that Ferdinand’s voice was raspy and cracking on every word, his usual bombasticity muted because of Hubert’s cock.

So instead of biting back verbally, he hauled Ferdinand to his feet by the hair and keenly watched every wince as he went. A decent amount of Ferdinand’s hair came with when Hubert finally let go of him, Ferdinand watching mournfully as it fell to the ground, but the expression only lasted as long as it took for Hubert to step around him and shove him chest-first onto the desk.

“Stay,” Hubert warned, walking off to find where he’d left his oil. Although it would likely surprise most of those who knew him, Ferdinand was hardly the first man to find himself under Hubert’s harsh grip; but although Hubert tended to prize discretion over physical attributes, he’d obviously made a misstep somewhere along the line if someone had informed Ferdinand of his...preferences.

Ferdinand _was_ the first to see the inside of Hubert’s quarters, though, and Hubert perhaps should have been more irritated by that.

He took his time to look for what he was after, intentionally rustling things and checking to see if Ferdinand would disobey his order and start trying to see what Hubert was doing. But the whole time, even when Hubert intentionally knocked a heavy book to the floor with a _bang_ , he remained in exactly the position Hubert had pushed him into. He had to admit, it was quite a sight: Ferdinand’s bare legs were long and strong, and his hair was spilling brightly across his naked back and the desk. However, while his obedience was pleasing, it also made Hubert want to mess with him.

As quietly as he could, Hubert spread oil on his fingers and stepped up behind Ferdinand, no warning coming before he slid a finger inside the man waiting, spread open, for him.

The sound was bitten down almost immediately, but the way Ferdinand _shrieked_ in surprise and tried to move away from the unexpected sensation had Hubert plastering himself to the length of Ferdinand’s body. He hoped that the fingers in Ferdinand’s ass, one quickly joined by another, and the teeth in his neck would distract him from the way Hubert was practically rutting against him; but if nothing else, Ferdinand could probably feel the pre-come smearing against his skin.

“ _Hubert_ ,” Ferdinand moaned, and he was promptly ignored. Instead, Hubert crooked his fingers and smirked when Ferdinand was rendered speechless, practically melting into the desk as Hubert forced pleasure upon him.

“If you come, I won’t fuck you,” Hubert warned, Ferdinand moaning again as his nails clawed at the wood under him and Hubert focused solely on the places that would keep him a squirming mess. Ferdinand, apparently far more agreeable like this than in a normal situation, did as he was told; but he was sweating and shaking and gasping oh-so-prettily, and Hubert didn’t want to be forced to choose between keeping his word and getting what he actually wanted.

And in any case, some of those nail marks were beginning to look as if they wouldn’t buff out too easily, and he didn’t want to have to lie to Edelgard when she would inevitably notice them and ask.

Ferdinand’s weight was more on the desk than his legs when Hubert pulled his hand free, unceremoniously spreading oil onto his cock and lining himself up to press into Ferdinand for the first time. Guiding himself with one hand, the other was buried in Ferdinand’s hair almost without conscious thought, pulling Ferdinand’s head up and off the desk at the same time as he was penetrated.

Gasping so prettily, Ferdinand arched his spine and neck in a graceful curve to meet Hubert’s punishingly tight grip. For all of his wayward thoughts, Hubert would never have expected Ferdinand to take to the pleasure and pain so readily: it was clearly not his first time, and if he’d had a little more free brainpower Hubert might have wondered how Ferdinand’s proclivities had escaped his notice.

As it was, though, Ferdinand’s hot, tight body was stealing the majority of his focus and Hubert was actually inclined to let it happen.

For once, the ever-present threat of someone getting into his good graces to attempt a poorly-considered assassination was lower than ever. Ferdinand had proven his loyalty to Edelgard ten times over, despite Hubert’s best efforts to find some infraction worth disposing of him over.

For once, Hubert found himself able to actually enjoy the moment, instead of idly wondering whether the hand that was clutching desperately at the wood of his desk was a distraction to misdirect his attention away from another hand reaching for a weapon.

_“Harder,”_ Ferdinand moaned, his nails scraping so hard against the wood that Hubert thought they might snap. Whether he was referring to Hubert’s grip upon his hair or the way he was being pounded into the desk, Hubert didn’t know; and so he increased both, his breath almost catching when that made Ferdinand clench around him.

“I knew it,” he continued, and Hubert should have guessed that Ferdinand wouldn’t have been one to shut up during sex. “I knew you’d be good to me, know how to make me feel go- _od, ah!_ ”

Ferdinand’s voice cracked up into a pleasured yelp when Hubert yanked sharply on his hair, the strands looking like gold wrapped around his fist. “Just like that, Hubert.”

One hand still clutching and clawing at the desk, Ferdinand shoved the other between his body and the desk, his breath coming out even faster when he began to touch himself to the punishing rhythm that Hubert had already set. It was a little hard to tell from his position, but Hubert had a sneaking suspicion that Ferdinand’s hand was too dry and his grip was too tight, and that was exactly how Ferdinand liked it.

The thought of Ferdinand truly and utterly lusting after _pain_ made Hubert feel like he was going to come. Forcing it back, he lowered his face to Ferdinand’s neck and buried his teeth into the meat of Ferdinand’s shoulder. If his unfortunate neighbours heard the bitten-off scream that Ferdinand made, well, they knew better than to ask questions. No one would ever suspect that Hubert was causing screams of _pleasure,_ after all, much less from one Ferdinand von Aegir.

“Yes, yes, yes, _fuck,_ yes, _more_ , fuck,” Ferdinand panted, all traces of nobility thrown out the window as he writhed on Hubert’s hand, teeth and cock. His entire body was trembling, shiny with sweat and starkly contrasting against Hubert’s own clothed form, and his blood rushed to the surface when Hubert finally removed his teeth.

Perhaps it would scar, and Ferdinand would forever carry a physical mark from Hubert on his body.

Shamefully, it was that thought more than anything that pushed the pressure in Hubert’s gut to near breaking point, but there was no way that Hubert was going to come before Ferdinand did. As much as he would have liked to torture Ferdinand with pleasure, see how many orgasms he could force Ferdinand to have before the pain stopped being enjoyable, it simply wasn’t going to happen.

“Come now, or not at all,” Hubert demanded, his teeth sinking into Ferdinand’s pale skin again and his hand giving another sharp pull on Ferdinand’s hair. To his continuing surprise, Ferdinand was utterly obedient once again: with a moan that was far too loud for their quiet surroundings, Ferdinand’s come splattered across the top of the desk, barely missing a few papers that had become slightly crumpled under Ferdinand’s desperate hand.

His whole body going boneless, Ferdinand fell against the desk when Hubert removed his teeth and his hand. Hubert could see a dreamy smile on his face where it was turned slightly to the side, his eyes rolling back with every thrust that Hubert gave him. Little choked gasps accompanied the slaps of Hubert’s body against Ferdinand’s, the sounds meaning that the sharp inhale that Hubert made as he came inside Ferdinand was lost underneath it all.

His own hand reaching for the edge of the desk for support, Hubert actually had to take a moment to himself before he could pull out; and even then, the sight of Ferdinand with his legs spread and come threatening to leak out of his reddened hole nearly knocked him on his ass, tempting him to offer up his tongue to assist with cleaning up.

Ferdinand was, unfortunately, the thing that fantasies were made from. Hubert doubted he would be forgetting that sight anytime soon. It would probably make unwelcome appearances during particularly boring meetings with the Strike Force, or when Ferdinand cornered him for tea, or when he was alone in his quarters with little else to do —

Shaking himself out of his debauchery-induced stupor, Hubert righted himself just in time to see Ferdinand coming back to consciousness and coherency, the stupor in his eyes giving way to tired awareness.

“My word,” Ferdinand said slowly, the words muffled where his face was still pressed into the desk. “Hubert, that was…”

He trailed off, limply waving a hand to indicate his thoughts, and Hubert smirked in an attempt to look and sound as normal as possible. “Is this Ferdinand von Aegir, actually speechless for once? Perhaps I should have tried that earlier.”

“Mm, well, I wouldn’t have complained.” Luxuriously stretching out, Ferdinand pressed himself up on one forearm and swept his sweaty hair back with his free hand, looking over his shoulder with his eyes searching out Hubert. “I could certainly do worse around these parts.”

As far as compliments went, it was absolutely backhanded; and yet Hubert looked away, busying himself with tucking his cock back into his pants so that he didn’t have to see the look on Ferdinand’s face. Stepping back from the desk, he threw a nearby cloth rag next to Ferdinand and certainly did not watch or attempt to orally _assist_ with the man’s cleanup efforts. In fact, he steadfastly ignored the noises and movements behind him until he was sure that Ferdinand was dressed again, turning around only when the rustling had stopped.

Unfortunately, no amount of clothing could disguise the fact that Ferdinand looked freshly fucked and utterly pleased with himself. His bright pink cheeks and hair that was sweat-matted at the roots and completely untamed further down were as sure a sign as any, and anyone who came across Ferdinand as he returned to his own quarters would have to be a fool to miss it.

Hubert...didn’t hate it.

He sort of maybe hated _himself_ for that, though.

He had, perhaps, spent a small amount of time thinking about how it would be _after_ bedding Ferdinand. He’d certainly expected dramatics, or an ill-considered and quickly-thwarted attempt at cuddling; but to his credit, Ferdinand had made a slight effort to straighten himself up and was already heading for the door, for once not attempting to badger Hubert into utter frustration.

“Good night, von Aegir,” Hubert said flatly when it became apparent that Ferdinand was about to leave without a word. He didn’t want to sound eager to keep Ferdinand’s attention nor remove him from the premises, but something about it made Ferdinand laugh, the sound quiet and clear in the night.

Pausing at the door, the warmth in Ferdinand’s eyes as he looked back at Hubert made him feel like he’d passed some sort of test, the usually chatty man clearly setting his wordless departure as a trap that Hubert had walked right into and proven that he, maybe, the slightest bit, might have felt some fondness for Ferdinand.

Now that he thought about it, Hubert didn’t think he’d ever wished any of his other _toys_ a good night, much less potentially meant it.

“May I...return? Tomorrow, perhaps?” Ferdinand asked, his hand sitting loosely on the door handle.

_No_ , Hubert thought, never one to use someone more than once. Twice was the beginning of a pattern, and patterns were dangerous if the wrong people were watching.

And yet —

“Yes,” he said, his orgasm apparently having made him stupid. But the flash of a brilliant smile before Ferdinand said his own goodbye and hurried away into the night made his heart beat uncomfortably fast, and it was so very much like Ferdinand to place himself somewhere he wasn’t wanted and proceed to make himself indispensable.

Hubert should have killed him years ago, but now?

Now he supposed he’d just have to wait and see what happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/socialdegener8) or [Tumblr](http://socialdegenerate.tumblr.com)


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